Bon Jour! Comprenez-vous Anglais? Thank goodness, because that is the extent of my French besides “fromage” and “la bière s’il vous plait”. While I always plan to learn at least basic conversational French before making a trip north of the border, I typically get distracted with trip plans instead. There was no difference while planning my trip to the Gaspé Peninsula of Quebec in February of 2011. This would be my 3rd trip to the Chic-Choc mountains to partake of some of the best backcountry ski terrain outside of the White Mountains.

The summits of the Chic-Chocs may be flat, but the slopes that lead up to them aren’t. (Brett Lund photo)

This trip would be different from past trips. I wanted to venture deeper into the Parc de la Gaspésie to explore some terrain farther away from the better traveled roadside attractions I had skied previously. Secondly, I was going to take this trip alone versus with a backcountry ski partner. Little did I know that David, our associate editor would be backcountry skiing and snowshoeing in the Gaspésie the following weekend, though he had much swankier plans (is that a real word? I’m too cheap to know . . .) The Gaspésie and the Chic-Choc mountain range lie near the tip of the Gaspé penninsula, which is the thumb shaped peninsula that sits directly below the mouth of the St. Lawrence River. These are the northernmost mountains of the Appalachian range, and unlike the Appalachians of New England, they have expansive plateaus with a lot of terrain above tree line. The proximity of this highland land mass to the waters of the Saint Lawrence, and, to its south, the Baie-des-Chaleurs mean that the Chic-Chocs get copious amounts of snow. The northern latitude ensures that this snow stays consistent and bountiful. Each time I travel to the Chic-Chocs I am happy with the snow cover, even when New England is starved for snow. Especially when New England is starved for snow!

To plan my trip I searched the SEPAQ website (the Quebec Park system). This is really a wonderful website with informational links to all of Quebec’s parks and their amenities. One of these days I may even be tempted to travel to another part of Quebec but for now I still have too much to explore in the Gaspésie. Initially I focused on 2 possible destinations to ski within the Park and adjacent nature reserve. One of the destinations was Mont Logan, which is in the westernmost portion of the park. Getting there would mean a mandatory 5 day loop, with 2 days at a hut near Logan. Mont Logan would be the best opportunity to make some fun and maybe steep descents, and it looked spectacular.  However, there were also rumors of avalanche risk at that point…hmmm.

The other option was an area called  ”Mines Madeleine”, which was highly recommended by backcountry skiers as an excellent destination with a good variety of terrain. According to all information, there was no lack of steep or tree skiing opportunities in this area as well. Due to the level of uncertainty around the Logan tour, and the need to spend 2 days touring to get to good vertical terrain, I opted for Mines Madeleine. I wanted to get to Logan, but I also did not want to trek into the woods for 3 days only to have avalanche hazard keep me from skiing. I love to tour, and there is plenty of touring to be had in the Gaspé, but I really like to go downhill. I had planned to do a couple nights in the park system huts, and a couple of nights tenting. This would allow me some flexibility in traveling, but would also help to keep costs down.

My home for the first night, a sturdy 3-person winter tent from LL Bean. It offered plenty of protection from the weather, but i was worried about a moose stepping on it. (Brett Lund photo)

I booked 2 nights at the Mines Madeleine hut, and planned to camp en route to the hut on the first night I arrived in the park. The drive to the Gaspé is a long one, fully 12 hours from the Concord, NH area. Maine can seem to go on forever, but at the same time this is a lovely drive, especially when you get to Quebec. You could go straight north and stop in Quebec City and out from there. (see the “swanky” article previously mentioned), but I prefer to drive through Maine, then short cut across New Brunswick to the beginning of the Gaspé peninsula. The drive along the Baie-des-Chaleurs is beautiful, with lovely coastal towns. After an hour or so of coastal  driving a left turn brings you north toward the Parc de la Gaspésie. Even in the dark pulling into the Chic-Choc mountain range is impressive. The snow is always piled high and the trees are caked with it like giant popsicles.

I arrived at the Parc Headquarters at 8:30 pm on Sunday, and immediately inquired about potential campsites or shelters along the way to the Mines Madeleine. Unfortunately and unbeknownst to me the Parc has very strict rules about camping outside of designated areas, and in winter the only tenting allowed is a half mile from the Park Headquarters. I leased a tentsite for the clear and starry night, found a nice site that had been packed down a bit. There, I put down my tarp, and set up the winter tent I had been asked to review. The LL Bean Backcountry Dome 3 was easy to set up and very roomy for one person (yes, we’ve had people take it out with 2 people and been happy with it, as well). After getting myself situated, I had to make one more quick run to the car for my toothbrush. As I rounded the corner of the tentsite trail, two large forms came walking out of the woods, not very gracefully either. Two huge moose, who, thankfully, were afraid of my headlamp. They wandered across the trail and back into the shoulder-deep snow and through the woods. I was hoping that they wouldn’t stumble through my tentsite during the night, or decide that nylon tasted good.

My House! Comfortable, and no moose came calling. (Brett Lund photo)

The following morning when I woke and began to pack, I noticed that these same two moose were in a nearby campsite. I have been around moose many times, including when they ambled through my campsite a few feet from my tent at 2 in the morning near Mount Carrigan in the Whites. Despite many pictures from previous encounters I felt the need to try to”sneak up” on them to take a picture of the large female moose and her yearling munching on the vegetation near the edge of the campsite. Just as I rounded the corner to snap a picture, the young moose, who was broadside to me, wheeled and started running toward me. Now, moose are big and look slow, but they can get moving quickly. I think Carl Lewis would have been impressed with my aceleration. Thankfully the yearling stopped, but I am sure that he had a good laugh with his moose friends about the old guy sprinting down the trail.

I had a long slog out to Mines Madeleine and wanted to get an early start. At  Park Headquarters, I checked in quickly with the front desk and was advised that I should indeed get started as my trek would be long and uphill. I had borrowed a Nordic Cab pulk from our Executive Editor, planned to load my backpack and other necessities into the pulk and tow it to the hut. A “pulk” is essentially a trailer for humans. It attaches with a waist belt, and two slender poles back to a sled. I would be traveling on Telemark gear with skins.

The long trek to Mines Madeleine started the real adventure. (Brett Lund photo)

The track to Mines Madeleine is basically a park road that is not plowed in the winter. The park services shuttle gear to the hut via snowmobile, and some group outings on snowshoes are brought out the 12 miles for better views and solitude. The day was beautiful and while it was cold (around 20) I quickly began to warm under the bright blue skies.

The accursed Pulk! It enticed me to take more gear than I really needed and slowed me down too much. (Brett Lund photo)

The grade was a fairly steady climb all the way to Mines Madeline, with a few short downhills. While the pulk was easy early, the longer I trekked, the more tired and frustrated I became. I found myself working much too hard to tow the pulk and wishing I had just stuck to my 5000 cubic inch backpack. Whenever you have more room to bring gear you will fill it, usually with crap you really don’t need. Those “extras” in the pulk were killing me by late afternoon. For the last mile of the slog a snow squall kicked up, and I wound up getting to the hut about an hour before dusk, frustrated and exhausted.

The Mines Madeleine hut was a welcome site after a long day. Warmth awaited inside! (Brett Lund photo)

The Mines Madeleine hut is an old mining crew bunkhouse, and was well equipped with a woodstove, running water, and a bathroom. Upstairs were beds for 14 or so people in a relatively open space, divided by half walls. It is very inexpensive to stay, a little more than 20 dollars per night. I was there alone for about an hour and took a nap until awakened by a young couple from Montreal who were touring from another nearby hut (the Gaspésie has many backcountry huts that can be rented and toured on cross country skis). They would be my only company this evening.

Getting ready to return to the hut.

Though it was dark, I wanted to venture further up the trail to get a view of my surroundings. There was still a bit of twilight lingering, and though the snow was still blowing I put on my head lamp and skis and headed uphill. The service road runs to the top of Petit Mont Sainte Anne,and I went about half way up before turning back to the lodge. I stripped off my skins and had a fun solo run in the dark back to the hut by the light of my headlamp. The trail was smooth and about 15 feet wide, and I could see the distant glimmer of the lights in the hut as a reference. Otherwise I was alone in a sea of blowing snow. It was simply spectacular. I returned to the hut, prepared dinner and chatted a bit with the couple before retiring for a long and welcome sleep.

The next morning I woke early to a partly cloudy day with blowing and drifting snow. After breakfast I said my goodbyes to the young couple and set out for the summit, packing lunch and planning to explore. My plan was to summit, then continue across the plateau to Mont Comte and Mont Jacques Cartier to see if I could find some skiable terrain a bit farther away. I had read on many web blogs that Mines Madeleine apparently had a lot of terrain right outside the hut door, but due to the blowing snow I couldn’t see it. I wanted to find somewhere that was more wind protected.

Halfway up the trail, a pause for a beautiful view of what I hoped to ski. (Brett Lund photo)

This plan would require about 4-5 miles (one way) of travel and route finding across the plateau. As I climbed toward Petit Saint Anne the new snow hung precariously on steep slopes above me.  I stayed on the road to minimize my exposure, and felt generally safe because there were many trees anchoring the new snow. Once I reached the top I was well above treeline and I knew right away that summit travel would be difficult and my plan would likely have to change. I was blown over several times by 80-90k gusts and had a very difficult time seeing my hand in front of my face. I pressed on for about 3/4 of a mile before I realized that route finding was simply too risky in these conditions, especially alone in unfamiliar terrain. It was cold, and the wind chill was substantial.

Caribou tracks! I knew they were close, but they can hide and I never saw the animals! (Brett Lund photo)

I paused by some caribou tracks (the Gaspésie is home to the southern-most herd of caribou in North America). They were fresh and the animal was likely close by watching me, though I could not see it. She knew where she was going. I didn’t. I returned to the summit trail, stripped off my skins and began the long winding decent to the hut. I didn’t realize how cold I had become on the summit, so I was glad to return to the warmth of the hut. The couple had left, but two Parc Snow Rangers were inside warming by the woodstove. They were evaluating the avalanche hazards in the area following the new snow. We discussed conditions for the day, and all agreed that, with the blowing snow, the local bowls would be unstable and dangerous. Not that we could even see them anyway! I asked if they could recommend some good low angle tree skiing close by, and they directed me back down the trail to a side road used by SkiChicChocs, a local cat skiing operation.

A break from the wind! The area around the snowcat operation was choked with snow! (Brett Lund photo)

About  kilometer down the road, I found a turn for the snowcat operation. Another kilometer or so through the woods brought me to a snow covered snowcat, at the bottom of what appeared to be a narrow road going up. This road actually led up the other side of Petit St Anne from where I had been in the morning. It was much more sheltered in the trees than near the hut, and I was able to gain quite a bit of vertical in short order. The trees were loaded with snow, and I could see steep chutes through the trees to my left, down into a drainage. While it looked appealing, I didn’t want to ski steep trees while alone, especially with no one at the hut or within many miles, so I stuck to the road and safety.

It was a nice pitch down through shin deep powder, and where I could get enough speed up I ventured through the trees on the edge of the trail. I took 3 loops before my weary legs told me to wrap it up. I put on my skins for the climb back to Mines Madeleine.

When I reached the hut a friendly and athletic group of backcountry tourers from New Brunswick had just arrived. They traveled in from a nearby hut, and had an adventureful ski on the way. Many falls and a lot of laughing. Skiing on cross country gear, and carrying fairly large packs, they took a beating but had a blast. They showed me many pictures of their faceplants. We chatted into the evening over wine and dinner. They were well prepared and had a snowmobile deliver a “restocking” of wine and a birthday cake for one of their party. What a wonderful way to spend a birthday!!

A ridge above Mines Madeleine, deep snow everywhere! (Brett Lund photo)

I planned to leave Mines Madeleine early the next day if the weather had not changed. If the weather was better and the snow had stabilized, I would take another trip up Petit St. Anne for some touring and descents. I slept hard that night, and woke before the sun. The wind of the past two days had abated, and I dressed quickly, made some tea and oatmeal, packed my bag and went out the door just as the sun began to crest the hills. For the first time in 36 hours I could see the terrain around the hut, and it was spectacular. The ski opportunities were limitless, enough for many days of fun, but  I had to leave that day. Grabbing my skis and backpack I made for the summit to get in as much skiing as possible while I could.

A path through the trees. Bonjour soft beautiful snow! Pure bliss! (Brett Lund photo)

Checking for snow stability.The recent wind loading left several hard slab layers that made skiing this angle unsafe. (Brett Lund photo)

It was a sunny morning, with bluebird skies, and I knew that I wanted to get some skiing in before I left. I assessed the “tube” which is the most obvious line off the hut side of Petit St. Anne, and after digging a hasty snowpit found a weak snow slab that made this aspect (the direction the slope faces) too scary, so I opted for a lower angle and slightly different direction off the summit which had softer snow, and finished through some nice snowladen trees.

While I was disappointed not to be skiing the bowls and gullies, this was the safer choice and still spectacular skiing. After a few laps, and one run down the shoulder of Petit St. Anne I realized that I needed to pack up and start my trek. Around 11:30 I descended the trail I had taken to the summit, and ducked through a short stand of pine trees to get my last fix before I needed to grab my gear, load the pulk and start the long trek out.

The shoulder of Petit St. Anne

I wanted one more night at the tentsite, and a day skiing Champs de Mars, before heading back to New Hampshire. Headed out on the long push back to the car, I was hoping that the pulk woud be easier to manage going mostly downhill. Much to my chagrin, and largely due to the new snow, the pulk acted like an anchor all the way back, so no rest for the weary.

Five hours later, I made it back to the car, and drove back to the campground to pitch the tent. I did not see my moose friends that night, but had more time to cook a proper dinner. I also had more time to evaluate the 3 man LL Bean tent, which functioned very well. It assembled easily for a large tent, and ventilated well during the night, keeping me comfy and dry, and the design is bombproof.   That’s of real importance in a multi-night trip in an area like the Gaspésie, where heavy snows can fall at any time. As a bonus for cheapskates like me, it’s also one of the most affordable 4-season tents out there; the tradeoff being that it’s somewhat heavier than the higher end versions. The following morning I made breakfast, packed my car and drove a short distance  to one of the easy-to-reach and very rewarding roadside backcountry skis.

Champs de Mars at its best! (Brett Lund photo)

There are several daytreks for backcountry skiing just down the road from Parc headquarters…Mt Hogsback, Champs de Mars, Mont Blanche La Montagne and a slightly longer trek to Mont Albert. Within the Parc, skiing is limited to particular zones, primarily due to the caribou herd preservation. Champs de Mars and Hogsback are the easiest to get to in a short period. For a longer day trek, the runs on Mont Albert are great fun, but I didn’t have time. At Champs de Mars, I quickly set skins to skis and began the 2 kilometer trek up a winding trail to the summit.

About two thirds of the way up, a cleared birch glade seduced me, and I took a nice run about halfway back down the mountain. Then I skinned up again and continued to the top. At the summit I took in the beautiful views; as the cloud cover lifted I could see Blanche le Montagne and other peaks in the distance. I set off down the center snowfield, and had knee deep turns all the way to the bottom. It was too good, so I skinned up one more time and this time went as far right as I could, weaving through patchy trees and tops of scrub pine. Two top to bottom runs on stable and soft snow with the mountain to myself….could not have been more perfect.

Hard not to get excited as you take off the skins and prepare to ski all this untouched powder all by yourself. (Brett Lund photo)

It was approaching noon and  knew I had a long drive ahead of me. I took a cut-through trail to the summit trail, then skied part of the birch glade one more time, finishing through some narrow pines and chutes at the bottom.

What a great way to end the trip! As I was loading into my car and getting ready to leave the lot a large party arrived, and we exchanged knowing smiles and a nod that said it all. “Was it good?” “Oh Yeah, its good…go get it!!!”  My Gaspé adventure was finished, theirs about to begin.  How about YOURS?

Soft snow, and more of it than expected, brightened a gray day at Bolton Valley. Bolton is one of the "overlooked gems of Eastern skiing. (Josh Arneson photo)

Even though Bolton Valley is right in the heart of Vermont ski country and only a short drive from Burlington, skiing there gives you what I might call “hidden gem feeling.” It is off the beaten path, the skiing is great, and it feels like a much bigger mountain than it actually is. It’s the kind of middlin’ big ski area with huge character that we at Eastern Slopes love discovering, and love to keep rediscovering again and again with each visit.

I recently rediscovered Bolton after not having skied there since 1997. My mistake. The last time I was there, my dad, my brother and I had stayed in one of the slopeside condos and had awoken to a sunny, glistening powder morning. We must have skied every trail on the mountain that day, and most of the woods too, in snow up to our knees. My brother and I had spent the best part of that epic day in Devil’s Playground, a “steep and deep” glade area that compares very favorably to anything offered by more-famous Stowe and Jay Peak.

Sadly, the conditions were not supposed to be quite so good on this particular Monday afternoon when I drove up to Bolton to make a few tracks. The weather called for icy drizzle all day, but it wasn’t raining, I had a day off and make a policy of always trying to go skiing even if the weather looks slightly iffy. Usually, conditions are better than expected, and this day was no exception. Fortunately the rain decided to hold off and I enjoyed a warm day (for January in Vermont) with nice soft snow.

Only the Vista Peak chairlift was open, which is typical during non-vacation weeks. But there was still plenty of great skiing to be had. Normally, the top of Vista Peak (3,150 feet) offers a spectacular view of Camel’s Hump, but this day the peak only offered the kind of pea-soup fog that makes it difficult to tell which way is up and which way is down. Bolton is one of the few ski areas in the east to generate some of its own electricity with a giant wind turbine near the top of the lift. I could barely make out the blades, which were spinning at a good clip in the wind-blown fog.

Like almost everyone else I know (and maybe you are in this sad group), I have not skied as much as I would like to this winter. I was feeling a bit unsteady on my Telemark gear so started the day with a cruiser run down Alta Vista, to skier’s right from the top of the the Vista Peak chair. The snow was smooth and easy to edge, thanks to great grooming and some fresh snow over the past few days. From Alta Vista, I was able to cut over to several of the trails on Wilderness Peak, and had an absolute blast. Swing and Bull Run are marked as beginner trails, but they are relatively narrow, have a nice, sustained pitch for carving and twist and turn pleasantly through the trees. Nice, mellow warmup ride on Tele gear .

There was plenty of snow to allow you to sneak into and out of the woods at the edges of the trails, and even enough for some real glades skiing if you didn't mind the occasional rough spot. (Justin Jones photo)

On my next lift ride I took Mousehole to Fanny Hill, an even narrower and windier run. Suddenly I was reminded of what is so wonderful about Bolton—it’s pure old school. If you are a purist (like me) and judge a ski area primarily by its trails, you will find a lot to love about skiing at Bolton Valley. It feels like a step back in time.  The mountain has the kind of long, twisting runs that truly make for classic New England skiing. The trails are cut to follow the terrain, not the needs of a grooming machine, turning and dipping unexpectedly through the forest that, on this day seemed dark, ghostly. I was having fun skiing the little whoop-de-doos off the side of the trail ducking in and out of the woods and making turns on the berms on the side of the trail. I noticed other skiers and riders doing the same. Bolton allows its trails to stay a bit wilder than many areas, which makes the skiing a total blast. It feels like you are WAY out in the woods and then, all of a sudden, you are back at the base village.

After a few warm up runs, I had a great run down Showoff, a black diamond which more or less parallels the chairlift. Some of Bolton’s runs are really steep! Even on the steepest pitches the snow was great. In Northern Vermont, even on a year like this when the rain is outgunning the snow, Bolton still had great snow coverage. It really helps to have a few inches of snow every couple of days, which Bolton has had over the last few weeks. An inch or two of snow several times a week eventually adds up to serious snow cover, even without the big snow dumps that get people cranked.

I tried the glades off Vista Peak, and found that there was enough snow for fun, even if there were a few rough patches here and there. Cobrass, another fun trail that swoops out to skier’s left, had quite a bit of grass showing, but, personally,  I would rather see a couple bare spots on an open trail than a “closed trail” sign and a rope on a trail that’s mostly well-covered.

All in all, it wasn’t a blue sky, fresh powder kind of day, but it was still a perfectly enjoyable day on the slopes. Bolton is a charming area with a great base village, and some of the cheapest slopeside ski and stay packages around. It also has extensive night skiing for as little as $19 (on Saturdays). If you want a back-to-basics ski experience with great terrain and minimal crowds, well, Bolton is waiting. . . .

In the Gaspesie, when they say "snow", think "winter wonderland"...we aren't talking normal Eastern snow here! We traveled up to find out if there was something beyond snowmobiling there...and found more than we bargained for.(David Shedd photo)

Stretching northeast from the northern tip of Maine, along the south shore of  the St. Lawrence River, the Gaspésie (or Gaspé Peninsula, as it is often called) is Quebec’s summer playground. With over 500 miles of coastline, it’s a natural for Québécois trying to escape the heat. Beyond that, however, the Gaspésie is home to some of the world’s most famous salmon rivers, drawing fanatic anglers from around the world. The International Appalachian Trail brings hikers through the interior to Cap Gaspé, the end of the mainland trail. All in all, it has a thriving, busy, bustling summer economy for such a remote area.

But winter…well, that’s a different story. Snowmobilers are the predominant tourists, drawn by over 1000 miles of maintained trails and the regular lake-effect snow caused by having water on three sides of the peninsula. Doesn’t that seem like a total waste of snow to you, particularly in an area filled with mountains? It certainly did to us. Even though there are no “major” ski mountains on the Gaspesie, there must be something for us non-motorized winter enthusiasts, right? Time for a road trip…and what better time to do it than February, when the snow is deep and the days are getting longer, which means more skiing time!

If you are heading into the Gaspé by all means plan a stop at Quebec City. It’s  hard to justify going all the way up there without enjoying all that marvelous city has to offer. Lodging can be had at relatively modest cost outside the city center, but if you’re going to splurge there are a couple of great options, including the historic Château Frontenac. Owned by the Fairmont hotel chain, it’s been upgraded but not stripped of charm; how many hotels do you know of that have a four-legged official greeter? Santol is a trained guide dog, but he prefers to socialize with as many people as possible…and he made us feel right at home. On the way back from the Gaspesie, we stayed at the Hotel Château Laurier; in many ways, it’s the opposite of the Frontenac. Yes, it’s in Old Quebec, but…well, do wine vending machines in the hallways sound traditional? Another non-traditional twist is that the hotel doesn’t have a dining room; rather, they partner with other restaurants in the city to create packages that appeal to different gastronomic tastes.

Had we known what was awaiting us at the Gite du Mont Albert, we'd have been a bit less concerned about rain forcing us inside! (Susan Marean Shedd photo)

We awoke our first morning in Quebec to a sound we really didn’t want to hear…rain dripping off the roof of the Frontenac.  Fabulous…here we are in Quebec in February to head into the snowy backcountry, and it’s raining??? With our usual optimism only slightly dampened, we  headed for the town of Ste. Anne des Monts. We’d planned the first day to be relaxed, with sightseeing along the way; it’s roughly a 6-hour drive up there (see why we wanted to stop in Quebec City the night before?) along the St. Lawrence River, so there should be plenty to see, right?  Well…not so much in a cold, foggy rain, when we were wondering if there would be snow at the destination OR if the rain would turn into ice and leave us stranded. The St. Lawrence was barely visible through the fog, but one feature of the trip stood out…windmills! Canada is investing heavily in a renewable energy future, and we saw hundreds of the massive beasts, turning slowly and gracefully in the distance. It’s magnificent, and a reminder of the focus on reduced pollution in the area (yes, we’re comparing it to the slow progress in the U.S.).

By Ste. Anne, we’d decided to relax and make an early start into the mountains the next day. Luckily, it’s hard to go through any town in Quebec of any size without finding a nice place to stay and some good food. The former was easily met by La Seigneurie des Monts, a historic inn close enough to the St. Lawrence that Tom Brady could chuck a football into the water from their porch. Unfortunately, their dining room wasn’t open, but the seemingly bizarrely named Pub Chez Bass wasn’t far away. On a cold, foggy night, pub food seemed perfect, and the warm atmosphere relaxed us…and as we ate, the rain turned to snow.

They do call is SNOWshoeing; in the Gaspesie, they aren't fooling around when it comes to the white stuff! (Susan Marean Shedd photo)

After an excellent breakfast at La Seigneurie, we were on our way to the Gîte du Mont-Albert…and more snow! We’d somehow found our way into an oddball weather system where the warm rain near Quebec City had broken the ice on the St. Lawrence, and a cold north wind was lifting the moisture off the river and depositing it on our heads. Over the next 5 days, we literally had a only few hours when it wasn’t snowing. Unfortunately, the stunning views the area is known for were mostly hidden; but the tradeoff was nearly constant fresh tracks. Life is so hard…

For our first day at the Gîte, we decided to go snowshoeing and shake the travel kinks out of our legs before beating them up on the boards. The Gîte provided us with a brown bag lunch and sent us out with a guide to the Abri de la Serpentine, a shelter tucked up among the mountains. It’s a 12.6 kilometer, roughly 5 hour trip; the first section is a LONG uphill climb to the cabin, where you can rest, warm up, eat lunch, and then head back toward the Gîte around Lac du Diable. Even though it was cold and snowing, it didn’t take us long to strip down to our baselayers as we climbed…and climbed…some steeps, but mostly just a nice, steady, manageable uphill. The views were almost surreal; the sun clearly wanted to come out, and there didn’t LOOK to be much in the way of clouds above, but the snow just kept coming and coming. We were certainly ready for our break when we reached the cabin, and no food was left behind, either! The trip down was…well, just plain silly fun. Thigh deep powder on snowshoes means hard work while climbing, but downhills are pretty much a standing glissade; well, at least until I caught a toe of my snowshoe on a branch and executed a perfect header, to the great amusement of my companions, who unanimously scored it a 10.

Back at the Gîte, the bar was about as nice a place to relax before dinner as any we’ve ever seen. The combination of soaring ceilings and traditional wood construction was both modern and homey at the same time…and a friendly bartender and a nice glass of wine prepared us for the kind of comfort food you’d expect at a mountain lodge. Okay, not really…this is Quebec. The food was almost shockingly gourmet; it almost felt as if we’d been transported back to Quebec City. Roughing it, this isn’t! After dinner, back to the room; no late night for us, as we knew what was coming the following day…

If you want true backcountry skiing, Ski Chic-Chocs will get you there! (David Shedd photo)

And in the morning, I was off to take advantage of one of only two full-on cat skiing operations in the Northeast (the other being in Newfoundland, even farther into the middle of nowhere). Ski Chic-Chocs exists to make it easier for backcountry skiers to enjoy the ridiculous amounts of powder the Gaspe receives, providing guides (and rental equipment) as well as somewhat-warmer-than-outside cabins in their Catski to drag us back up the hill. It’s not Western cat skiing; the mountains aren’t that big. But, they’re plenty big and plenty wild, particularly in the disorienting conditions of constant snowfall. Up top, in the howling wind, the surfaces were scratchy…but as we skied down, the snow underfoot got deeper and deeper. In the trees, protected from the wind, it approached waist deep in places.

Everest? No, but for all we could tell, it could have been...by the time we reached the top, our earlier tracks were nearly filled in! (David Shedd photo)

Using AT (alpine touring) gear, we alternated  runs to the bottom where the ‘cat met us and took us back up with partial runs where we put skins on and glided back up to cover more of a particularly lovely glade area. If you haven’t tried AT, you’re missing a treat. Downhill, you have the control of traditional downhill skis/boots/bindings. Uphill, you have the ability to ski the kind of areas that most of us associate with Telemark. Remarkably, climbing back uphill on these boards is in many ways easier than snowshoeing;  length and width gives floatation to stay on top of the snow, the skins give great grip, and when you hit an area that’s flat or slightly downhill for a bit, they glide in perfect control, faster than any snowshoes. With ski manufacturers finally figuring out the wide shaped ski equation, AT gear is not  an unreasonable option for a skier who mostly uses lift-serviced slopes day in/day out. You then have the option to take advantage of an operation like this, or getting farther off into the open glade areas at ski resorts, where there’s no easy return to the lift without climbing. Either way, for a skier who wants something close to lift-serviced, but relishes a different challenge and gorgeous powder, this is a truly unique opportunity!

Even with the near constant snow, the views were still breathtaking; no wonder Susan is smiling! (David Shedd photo)

Susan, being relatively new to alpine skiing, wisely decided to pass on this adventure, and instead went out snowshoeing with a group in the same area we were skiing (which led to a whole bunch of shouting and echoing when we saw each other on nearby peaks!).  She, too, had a ball; by taking advantage of Ski Chic-Choc’s cats, her group was able to start much higher and cover much more terrain than if they’d had to climb from the lodge.  Even though the views were limited by the constant snow, winds would suddenly open a view to a mountain, or into a valley, giving them a constant sense of anticipation of what might happen next.  Having a guide from Ski Chic-Chocs meant freedom to focus on what was around them without worrying about where they were going, a very agreeable luxury!

By the end of the day, we were ready for another night of relaxation at the Gîte, more great food and companionship, and an early bedtime, knowing that we had an early morning ahead of us…we were headed DEEPER into the wilds of the Gaspésie!

Snow, mountains...and one lone building, in the middle of nowhere. That's the Auberge de Montagne des Chic Chocs! (David Shedd photo)

There’s a politically incorrect phrase heard often south of the Canadian border: “those crazy Frenchmen.” But, without in any way making that a negative, they HAD to be wonderfully, magnificently crazy to build the Auberge de Montagne des Chic-Chocs. Nobody remotely sane would build a four-star hotel at the TOP of a mountain that you can’t reach in the winter. Okay, maybe not at the top of the mountain, exactly…there ARE higher peaks in the area. But, the “base lodge” is at over 2000 feet…and you ski DOWN from there. Did I say you can’t reach it in the winter?  Okay, I lied. You can.  But only by THEIR custom, deluxe, converted van snowcats. Very comfy…which is a bloody good thing, since it’s 40 kilometers to the lodge from the last place you can take something with wheels. On, of course, a serpentine road that hugs the mountainside, crosses stunning rivers flowing through mountain valleys…you get the picture. The ride itself is a treat, making you wonder…can the lodge really live up to the buildup? Worry not…it’s as stunning as the scenery, and as unexpected.

Karhu was ahead of their time with the Meta Ski; they're fun, rare, and the Auberge has a fleet of them for your enjoyment! (Susan Marean Shedd photo)

I wish we could say that we paid full attention to the introduction that Guy Laroche, the manager of the Auberge, gave us when we arrived. He did his best, letting us know that surprising variety of amenities offered (being hedonists at heart, we DID pay attention to where the outdoor hot tub was), the great array of equipment for our use. With great patience, he even got us to pay enough attention to know where our room was and be able to head there and store our luggage. But…out the windows, there was SNOW. Not snow, SNOW. We did pay attention to the need for avalanche beacons, and other safety instructions, but details about the lodge itself? Nah. That could wait until after dark.

And, soon after, we were out with a guide and some Karhu Meta Skis. These are real oddballs that, unfortunately, never captured the public’s imagination, possibly because no one really understood them. People thought they were backcountry skis, and by that measure, they’re terrible (although using them with Telemark or AT boots, as opposed to your basic winter boot, dramatically improves their downhill skiing performance). If you think of them as really fast snowshoes, however, they’re a blast! We wound around in the most amazing winter wonderland, up and down; since the skins are built into the ski, there were no delays, no waiting while we put on skins to climb, or took them off to go downhill. The Meta Skis really shine on mixed terrain with rolling hills, and we found plenty of them. As the shadows lengthened, we headed back for the lodge very, very reluctantly.

Huge, multipurpose, and incredibly welcoming, the great room at Auberge du Montagne des Chic Chocs is the center of all eating activitities (Susan Marean Shedd photo)

That really wasn’t fair; the lodge deserves to be fully appreciated.  It would be impressive if it were in a “normal” location; here, where a tent is near luxury, it’s fabulous. In particular, the great room, which really is a GREAT room, is noteworthy. It’s a massive open space, punctuated by a 4-sided glass fireplace. Unlike the Gîte, which has separate rooms for bar and dining, this is the “everything” space where you eat, drink, hang out, talk, read, you name it. We found ourselves sort of rotating from space to space over an evening…a warm cup from the superb coffee/espresso/cappucino machine when we came in from an outdoors session, to the bar after a hot tub or nap, then to the long tables for dinner, and over to the cubbies near the windows to talk and share some port after dinner was over. It’s a warm, relaxing space, in keeping with the “casual elegance” theme.

Roughing it? Not likely...this IS Quebec, after all! (David Shedd photo)

Dining follows that same theme; breakfast and lunch are buffet, and dinner is served family style, with large platters of fabulous food (venison with roasted carrots and asparagus, for instance) being passed around. It makes sense, since there isn’t a pool of neighborhood talent to call on for wait staff; yes, your server WAS your backcountry guide a few hours before. Guy even doubles as wine steward, and will happily recommend a perfect match for your dinner from his latest selection of “finds.” Don’t worry about going hungry…there’s PLENTY of food (and there’s always something hanging around to eat when you come in from a long ski and are hungry enough to eat your own arm). Basically, this is “roughing it” only if you’re a Ritz Carlton Platinum Elite member.

But even the Ritz can’t give you the profound silence that comes with being this far from anywhere. About the only thing that can disturb your night’s sleep is wind, and we didn’t have enough to notice. Talk about waking refreshed…and excited! Backcountry skiing was on the agenda, and a look out the window showed us that our tracks from yesterday had utterly disappeared. I’m afraid we didn’t give breakfast the attention it deserved; we were too wound up and wanted to be sure we were totally prepared when our groups were ready to go. The guides broke us up into two groups; Susan went out to explore some gentler glades with several other people who didn’t have much backcountry experience. I swallowed the lump in my throat and went out with the REAL lunatics. The group included Steve Gorman, a longtime backcountry telemark fanatic, Rob Story, a Telluride native and an writer for “Powder Magazine” and others, and our host Guy, who lives/works there for the simple reason that he can ski out his back door all the time. And, we literally went out the back door, skiing directly from the parking lot down through thigh-deep powder to Chute Hélène, a waterfall famous in that area. I wasn’t anywhere near  in the league of the other skiers in the group, but they were kind enough to stop halfway down to let me catch up. On the first run, I pulled up next to Rob and said “Whaddya think?”  He said only one word…”Epic!” There you have it; a Western native skier, describing Eastern natural powder as “epic.” I looked at the sky…no signs of gathering clouds or massive lightning bolts. Still, I was happy when Rob skied away from me; who knew when the sky was going to fall???

Even if the skiing hadn't been fantastic, it would have been worth the trip just to see Chute Helene, magnificent in its frozen state (David Shedd photo)

It wasn’t just the skiing that was epic, though. When we reached the bottom and put on our skins, it was a short glide to Chute Hélène…and we were more than rewarded for the effort. Stunning even in its frozen state, Hélène seemingly falls directly from the sky down a cliff. A stop on the International Appalachian Trail, it’s hard to imagine how extraordinary it must be in late spring, with massive amounts of snowmelt churning down. Clearly, we need to go back when the snow is gone!

But for now…back up the mountain for another run. One of the great advantages of skiing AT in a group, besides the shared fun and increased safety, is taking turns breaking trail on the climb back up. Trust me, it’s a real workout whether you’re on the front or the back of the line; strip down to light layers, or you’ll sweat until you regret it! It makes for great skiing, though; you’re warm, your legs are loose and energized when you reach the top, so you have great flow on the way down again. Want to know how much fun the skiing really was? Take a look at this video of us having a ball!

In the other group, Susan was having as much fun as we were. After learning mostly on hard, scratchy resort snow, playing in the powder came naturally to her. By the end of her session, she was wishing she’d gotten to come out and play with us. She’d gotten great tips from her guide, and had followed the cardinal rule of glades: Look at the SNOW, not the trees! One of the most important things she’d found out, in fact, is that there’s a lot more snow than you’d expect.  Looking down at a backcountry glade, it can appear utterly impenetrable; but, when you ski down to it, you suddenly find that there’s a lot more space between the trees than it looks from above.  What had seemed scary to her as she headed out had become FUN!  When we met up for lunch, she was glowing and laughing. Truly, can you ask more from a morning of skiing than that?

Views that would make Ansel Adams weep are part of the charm of the Chic-Chocs (David Shedd photo)

After lunch, Steve and Rob and some of the other hard-core types headed back onto the slopes, but we wanted to explore, so we grabbed snowshoes and headed out. The Auberge has well-marked trails to follow; even though snow had filled in any signs of them, the tree markings made it easy. We explores a quick hour or two loop from the lodge called the Bucher; after wandering through moose heaven for a while, you come out onto an edge with unbelievable views of Mont Nicol-Albert, among others. The strange constant snow we’d been having was finally starting to calm itself down, and with the sun forcing its way through the clouds, the effects were like something out of an Ansel Adams print. We’ve probably seen views AS beautiful, but I doubt we’ve ever seen anything MORE beautiful.

Back at the lodge, we were in time to catch a quick nap, a soak in the outdoor hot tub, and then to the great room for a drink before dinner. The mood  was as light and happy as any we’ve ever seen; it had been a perfect day, with enough effort to have earned our magnificent meal, stunning scenery, and a sense that we’d participated in something truly unusual and very special. Dinner flowed into some vintage port as we all sat and chatted in the lounge area; we knew we had to leave in the morning, and didn’t want to let it end.

Riding out in the snowcat produced constantly changing, stunning views (David Shedd photo)

Alas, morning brought packing up and heading out, yet even that was a true joy. The sun had finally broken through, giving us a brilliant morning to take a snowcat ride out to the “real world”. The moose were cooperative, and we saw several groups of them when we could tear our eyes away from the mountains.  Too soon, we reached the cars, and headed out on the long trip back to Quebec City. It was a strange transition…seeing houses, cars, normal signs of civilized life was disorienting after spending time in such splendid isolation. In some ways, the long drive was a boon, as it gave us all time to gently come back to what we tend to think of as “normal” life.

And back to our regular lives we went…subtly changed. I started looking for an AT ski setup, Susan asked for Meta skis for Christmas (sadly, an unfulfilled wish, as they’re no longer made and are very hard to find), and we know we’ll be heeding the call of the Gaspésie and heading up again, both in summer and winter. Be forewarned ..if you take a trip up, you may find it addicting. Like us, you may realize that you’re randomly looking at weather forecasts for Cap Chat, wondering how much snow THEY’RE getting!

The new $8.6 Million dollar Bluebird Express covered 6-passenger chairlift whisks skier to Mount Snow’s summit faster than ever. When the wind is blowing and the snow is falling (from sky or snowguns), this is one sweet ride. (Tim Jones photo)

On Saturday, December 10, 2011, Mount Snow in West Dover, Vermont “officially” opened for the season, with top-to-bottom skiing and riding on their main mountain and a full terrain park at Carinthia. “Unofficially”, they’d turned their beginner lift and opened a little terrain park way back in October.

Their “official” opener was a “Bluebird Day” for more than just the fine weather.

I took my first Tele turns of the new season on the Saturday opener to check out the conditions and wasn’t disappointed. It’s been a rough start to the season for most resorts and Mount Snow is no exception. They didn’t have as much snow as everyone would have wanted. But they did have enough snow to ski on happily.

Now, Peak Resorts, which owns Mount Snow (and Attitash, Wildcat and Crotched Mountain) is noted for their snowmaking capacity. They got their start in the midwest, where some of their resorts get less than 20 inches of snow annually. But, even a tremendous snowmaking system like theirs, with unlimited water and 253 high-efficiency fan guns (the most in North America), doesn’t do much good if there hasn’t been any cold weather. On Opening Day, with all the pent-up demand, there were really too many people on too few trails—typical everywhere in early season. I’d give the conditions a solid B, which is better than you can expect at most mountains on an opening day when there hasn’t been any natural snow that has stayed.

The fact that Mount Snow had as much terrain open as they did with as much snow as they had with only a night or two of real snowmaking weather is a testament to the power of their snowmaking system. The snowguns were humming (fan guns don’t roar, but they sure pump out a lot of snow) and a good percentage of the trail had a dusting of fresh powder for each run. That snow was constantly getting moved around by skiers and riders and some bumps developed on the steeper sections. All in all, was a real challenge for me on Tele skis (which is one of the main reasons to go Tele in the first place . . .) and I enjoyed every minute. Everyone around me seemed to be having fun, too. I think everyone was just grateful for the chance to be out having fun on snow while the rest of the world was dull brown and gray.

The real news at Mount Snow, however, wasn’t the Opening Day, or even the tremendous snowmaking effort. It was the new $8.6 million “Bluebird Express” lift that runs to the summit from their main base area. This is like no other lift you’ve ever ridden on: it’s a 6-passenger high-speed detachable lift with blue plastic canopies which drop down to shield you from wind and snow. It’s fast, smooth and a very nice ride, and even on a nice day like Saturday (temps around 30, little wind) the protection from all the snow blowing from the fan guns was quite welcome. This has almost as much protection as a gondola without the hassle of taking off your skis to ride it. This is the first in North America, but I’ll bet it won’t be the last.

This ain't your grandfather's "bubble chair!" The new 6-pack "Bluebird Express" is more protected than a chairlift (if you close the canopy), yet much easier to load and ride than a gondola. (Tim Jones photo)

Not your grandfather’s bubble chair . . .

Bubble-covered chair lifts were once, if not common, at least not unheard of around New England. Mount Snow had, I’ve believe, three in the early 70s. Onset Mountain, (later called Bobcat and now another Peak Resorts property, Crotched Mountain) in Bennington, N.H. also had one. These were essentially standard fixed doubles with clear plastic bubbles that closed over them. Trouble is, those bubbles acted like sails and caused trouble whenever the wind blew. They were also somewhat fragile, easy to break and hard to maintain. The bubbles disappeared and so, eventually, did most of the fixed-grip double chairs.

This new lift is a whole different beast. The chairs and cables are much heavier so the wind shouldn’t affect them as much. Mount Snow plans on using this as their primary summit lift, running the nearby detachable quad only on very busy days. (They’ll probably need traffic cops on the summit with both lifts running at full capacity!)

If you are wondering how long it’ll take before the shiny new bubbles start being vandalized with stickers and scratched-in messages, you may have to wait awhile to see any damage. In fact, Mount Snow is making a real push to keep the lift pristine. Lift tickets are scanned each time you ride the lift and security cameras constantly monitor who is on the lift, which chair they are on and if any damage has been done. I’ve heard the cost to repair/replace a damaged bubble is $3000 and Mount Snow fully intends to prosecute and recover costs for any damages by vandals. In fact, I’m told, one miscreant has already been identified and will be held liable. I was told they intend to “make an example” of him (perhaps by putting him in stocks by the base lodge so everyone can throw snowballs at him?). Imagine the hassle and expense he’s facing. What a way to ruin your day on the slopes!

The snowguns were humming and you can bet that conditions were going to be better the next day, and the next . . . (Tim Jones photo)

Speaking of NOT ruining your day, you don’t have to worry about whether or not you’ll like the snow conditions at Mount Snow. If you buy a regular price full-day or multi-day lift ticket and are dissatisfied with snow conditions after taking one run within one hour of the purchase, you may exchange it for a voucher of equal value you can use on a return visit any day within one year. Nice touch, that.

It was cold on Saturday night, so I can absolutely guarantee that Sunday’s snow was better than Saturday’s, and you can expect things to get even better as winter finally arrives.

What’s really amazing is the fact that this whole area was devastated by flooding during Hurricane Irene  in late August. Driving through Wilmington and up to the mountain on Route 100, you’d hardly believe anything had ever gone wrong. Clearly, Vermont is back in the ski business…and Mount Snow is proving it!

Even on a day of cold, blowing snow and rotten light, the Revision Desert Locust Extreme goggles allowed me to ski confidently (Susan Marean Shedd photo)

Seriously.

Wearing Revision Military’s Desert Locust Goggles without a helmet can be hazardous to someone else’s health.

Time to backtrack. After my wonderful experience with Revision’s “Sawfly” glasses, I wandered through their catalog and ran across the Desert Locust goggle. Pretty cool looking, optimized for helmet use, and with the usual Revision “to military specs and beyond!” (sorry, Buzz Lightyear) build quality. And the “Extreme” version ($99 with neutral gray lens; extra lenses $28/each) has sealed double lenses to avoid fogging in cold weather…hmm. Definitely a “must-try”, particularly for backcountry and sidecountry skiing!

Now, here’s where the health part comes in. I took them out of the box, put them on, and my sweetheart Susan hurt herself laughing. Honest. This is why you shouldn’t even put these things ON without a helmet. Naked, they’re about as wide as J. Lo’s…sunglasses. And, frankly, they didn’t fit all that well…they gapped around my nose. NOT a promising start. But, the people at Revision are serious detail freaks, so maybe I should put on my helmet and try them that way.

You can't claim you weren't warned; these goggles are NOT meant to be used without a helmet, or seen by anyone else that way! (David Shedd photo)

Whoa! WHAT a difference. Goodbye gaps. The angle of the strap changed when the helmet was added into the equation. The goggles were pulled a bit wider, and the fit changed dramatically. These goggles SHOULD NOT be worn without a helmet.

With my trusty old carbon fiber Leedom, they looked a little . . . well . . . menacing. I looked in the mirror and thought “Hey, I look a little badass!” When I pointed this out to Susan, she hurt herself laughing again. Apparently, even with a helmet on, these things can be dangerous to someone else’s health. Also apparently, I’ve got about as much chance of being badass as Elmer Fudd.

But…the military-goggle connection does have some validity. This is serious eye protection, with serious quality. Fit on my helmet is excellent, with minimal gap showing between the helmet and the googles. Clarity of the lenses is spectacular. December and January in the Northeast means “flat light”…the sun is hiding behind the mountain, making it hard to see contours on the slopes.  The usual solution is a yellow or vermillion lens, but I personally hate yellow, and at that point the Desert Locust didn’t offer vermillion. So, neutral gray it was. And, wonder of wonders, I was able to see at least as well as my companions on some gray days that had everyone concerned about visibility. Apparently, the clarity of the optics allows for greater contrast than you would expect from neutral gray.

With this quiver of lenses, you can be set for everything from night skiing to flat light to snowblind conditions on Everest (David Shedd photo)

After several months of playing with the neutral gray, though, Revision brought out a vermillion lens for the Desert Locust. True to form, the optical quality was spectacular; so much so that on a backcountry skiing trip in Quebec’s Gaspesie National Park, another writer and REAL backcountry ski expert took one look through them, gave them a “wow!” rating, and immediately asked where he could order a pair.  They’re simply that good…and yes, he’s a helmet wearer.

Even on bright days, the vermillion lenses don’t leave my eyes tired after a long day of skiing, as some lenses have done over the years; I used them into April, and even on bluebird days didn’t feel the need to change back to neutral gray (although I like neutral gray on a day like that; color accuracy is greater, allowing you to really enjoy the beauty!). For night skiing, or when you get caught by darkness skinning back to your lodge at the end of a day of backcountry, it’s a matter of seconds to pop in a clear lens and have full vision with eye protection.

Beyond the optical quality, though, is the fogging resistance. On one particularly cold day at Sunday River, I was skiing with a couple of lunatics who thought it was a great idea to ski through the snowguns at speed. They frequently had to stop because they couldn’t see a bloody thing through the fog on their goggles. My goggles, on the other hand, were perfectly clear (other than the ice balls on them from the snowguns). Intrigued, we went in for hot chocolate and put all three sets of goggles on the table next to each other; they all fogged, but mine cleared dramatically faster than the other two. These guys don’t tolerate poor quality in anything they buy, and their goggles were no exception, but they simply couldn’t measure up. Sadly for one of them, though, he doesn’t wear a helmet, so he’s stuck with what he’s got.

There was one problem with my Desert Locusts. On my first pair, the foam that seals them to your face became damaged from putting them up and down on a helmet. An email to Revision got an instantaneous, extremely apologetic reply. They were well aware of the problem, had thought this older design had been cleared from the pipeline. They immediately sent a replacement pair. The new seal has a soft cloth layer over the foam and, after a full season of use, is showing no signs of wear. Good companies make great products; GREAT companies make great products and stand behind them when something goes wrong. Kudos to Revision on this one!

Our only remaining complaint is that the storage bag that comes with the goggles is, um, not user friendly; it works, but it’s a pain in the neck.  An extra quarter inch added to all dimensions would make it a lot easier to deal with (hint, hint, Revision…).

Not every product is right for everyone, and the Desert Locust Extreme is no exception. If you don’t wear a helmet, don’t waste your time; they simply won’t work. And, it’s likely that they won’t fit some helmet/face combinations…but we haven’t found any yet they haven’t worked with. If you’re a backcountry/sidecountry addict, we can’t imagine anything that will make you feel more confident in the trees than a goggle that survives bullet impacts. While that level of protection isn’t necessarily needed on the slopes, we’ve seen enough shattered lenses after crashes to take comfort in the durability of these. Besides…even if the Desert Locusts can’t make you look badass, there’s gotta be some street cred to wearing bulletproof military goggles. Paging Mr. Rambo…

6 pieces, 10 ounces, amazingly flexible protection system! (David Shedd photo)

We’re a big fan of 3-piece glove/mitt systems for most outdoor pursuits.  Having an overmitt that provides maximum protection, yet comes off easily to give us greater dexterity, is a major help when setting up a winter camp, or when trying to take photos in the field. Having a thin liner glove as the third piece of the system allows for better moisture control and wicking, and lets us keep our hands away from direct contact with metal, snow, whatever, when we need even better tactile feel than the second layer gives us.  Plus, playing around with the combination allows us to fine tune for different temperatures.

However, there are usually a few different prices to pay. One, literally, is price; 3-piece systems tend to be relatively expensive, for obvious reasons.  Another is loss of dexterity when the whole mess is put together. Put several gloves inside each other, and you can usually expect it’ll get bulky and hard to grab with, compared with a single warm mitten. And, finally, a lot of glove systems are really hard to get on/off when you’re sweating and they’re moist inside.

Sometimes, though, things all come together as if the cosmos intended it all along.  And, combining Outdoor Research’s “Latitude” 2-piece combo with their PL100 liner glove feels like one of those cosmic coincidences. First things first…it’s hard to know that the Latitude is a 2-piece, because OR simply markets it as an “ultralight shell.” You have to read down farther to find out that it’s a shell AND a glove. Dumb marketing for a great product.  When OR calls the shell an ultralight, though, they aren’t kidding; it feels about as thick as a piece of wax paper. But don’t kid yourself; it’s not weak or flimsy. The material is tough, the palm is grippy, and it’s full featured: Strap across the back of the wrist to tighten it on, that you can operate with a mitten on the other hand?  Check. An “idiot cord” to keep the mittens attached to you when you take them off so you don’t drop them off the ski lift? Check (For the record, I don’t think I’m an idiot, but I use them all the time; too easy to have a wind take them miles away when you  put them down, since they’re so light!). OR’s excellent Duo-Cord gauntlet closure, that allows you to pull one tab to tighten them, one to loosen? Check. Pre-curved, so the palm doesn’t bunch up when you grab something? Check.

The PL100 liner (r) slides easily in and out of the Latitude liner glove, allowing for great dexterity and surprising warmth (David Shedd photo)

So, the mitten has the right stuff…how about the glove?  Well, let’s just say that they’re my current go-to glove for driving, working in the garage, etc.  True to OR’s obsessive-compulsive nature, they’re a surprisingly elaborate affair, with an inner fleece layer and an outer shell that’s grippy on the palm and fingers, slippery on the back.  Warmth is moderate; they’re 100 weight fleece inside the thin shell.  But, they’re surprisingly waterproof, making it possible to clean snow off the car with them and stay dry, and that makes them feel warmer than a glove that lets moisture in. And grip they have, in spades, along with seams that are nearly invisible to the fingers, giving great feel. They’re a great work glove, period. After a season of abuse, they’re showing some small signs of wear here and there, but still in great shape overall. That’s one of Outdoor Research’s claims to fame; if you need to trust something when you’re climbing a 20,000 footer, you know that their construction is impeccable.

Snowing, windy, and 0F in Quebec's Chic-Chocs mountains, but the Latitude/PL100 combination kept me plenty warm (Susan Marean photo)

So far, so good; great features, great feel, great fit. But, only moderate warmth. At 20 degrees F, that’s fine, but as the temps crawl down closer to zero, they just aren’t warm enough.  That’s where the PL100 liner comes in.  Made of OR’s 100 weight “Radiant Fleece”, they’re a smooth, silky-feeling, close fitting liner. A little thicker than the lightest liner gloves, they’re a LOT warmer, and surprisingly wind resistant. And, the fabric breathes well, making them easy to get on and off, and keeping them warm when you’re working hard; dry hands are warm(er) hands.

One characteristic of good liner gloves is that they’re slippery, helping them to conform to the gloves they’re sliding into; however, that creates its own problem. When you need maximum dexterity and strip down to the liner, you suddenly don’t have any significant grip; things slide out of your fingers.  Most liners offer an “all or nothing” approach; no grip at all, or the entire finger/palm area has added grip, effectively turning it from a liner glove to a standalone, since it won’t fit easily into another glove. OR’s solution is simple and surprisingly functional…put a bit of silicone on the first joint area of the thumb and forefinger.  It’s a smart compromise; the liner still slides easily in and out of the Latitudes, but if you have to pick a quarter off the ground, you can (hey, I’m of Scottish descent; picking up loose change is a religion!).

The added warmth of the PL100 dramatically increases the utility of the Latitude combination; while backcountry skiing on the Gaspe peninsula at a windy 0 degrees F., my hands remained comfortable. Even with multiple stops to take off the overmitt to shoot photos and video, my hands never came close to “real pain” ; a few arm windmills, and they were warm again.  For most of the photo shooting, I was able to leave both pairs of gloves on, yet still operate the small controls on my Olympus camera; that was both a surprise and a huge help to keep me warm (and waste less time…no fumbling to keep the gloves where they belonged while I got my shots, then get gloves on, mittens on…you get the picture).

Rolled up, the Latitude overmitts take up remarkably little space, giving an added margin of safety tucked into your emergency kit (David Shedd photo)

Flaws?  Really, only a couple. No, they’re not an expedition mitt; if you’re going to be fooling around at -35, you’re likely smart enough to know that you need a LOT more insulation than these offer. However, they can easily be adapted to handle colder weather.  Pick up a relatively inexpensive, oversized mitt (oversized, as in if you wear a large, buy an XL) with decent insulation (even cheapies use Thinsulate these days). Take off the thin OR overmitt, stick on the thick one…voila!  Not waterproof, but generally if it’s that cold you’re less worried about waterproof; we’re talking about staying warm as you sit in camp, or have lunch on a long, cold snowshoeing trek.  That’s a cheap solution that gives you almost infinite combinations to meet most conditions, and doesn’t add tons of weight.  Or, as a ski patrolman at Cranmore said to us as we rode up a lift together, “I have those same mitts, and I got some thick fleece mittens to put inside; I’ve never been cold in them yet!”  Options abound…use your imagination to get the combination that’s just right for you.

The only other flaw, as mentioned earlier, is the price of the system. The two-piece Latitude system rings up at $120; the PL100 adds another $26. Include tax or shipping, you’re looking at $150, a not-inconsiderable chunk of change. But, when you’re out snowshoeing at 10 degrees and slip in a creek crossing, would you rather have saved $50 on a lesser system, or know that the hand you just plunged into 34 degree water up to the wrist isn’t going to get soaked, then turn to a block of ice? There are areas that we’re more likely to cut corners, as they won’t compromise our safety (a good example is gaiters; OR’s are the industry standard, but if you need to save money somewhere, LL Bean’s “Winter Walkers” do the trick admirably, allowing you to better allocate your funds elsewhere).

Now, here’s a tip; we’ve just gotten word that OR is discontinuing this model, and replacing it next winter with a nod to their heritage, the Mt. Baker Modular (the original Mt. Baker was a landmark product for OR “in the day”).  The new setup will have more insulation in the liner glove, but will also cost about $20 more. I expect we’ll love those, but in the meantime, there may be retailers wanting to move these out, so keep your eyes open for bargains!  With luck, you could save enough to cover the cost of insulated overshells and have the best of ALL worlds.

Take one cross-country skier, attach one dog that likes to pull and you have the instant fun of skijoring. (Tim Jones photo)

Here in the northeast, Winter lasts until the end of March, mid-April in a good year.

Why not enjoy it? Snow is an invitation to get outdoors and play. And in late February through all of March the days are long, often warm, the snow is deep and it really is the best of Winter.

Here are some ideas:

Sled: The perfect Active Outdoors sport for a late winter afternoon. All you need is a hill and a sled. The late winter snowpack is settled and dense, perfect for sledding (and making it a lot easier to climb up the hills!). Cheap plastic sleds work fine. If you want to get fancy, get an Airboard or Hammerhead.

Snow Tube: If you like sliding down but don’t like climbing up, most ski hills these days offer lift-serviced snowtubing. For a few bucks you get an hour or two of cheap thrills, no lessons required. Try it under the lights on a warm, late-winter evening.

The author tries snowbiking for the first time. It's easy and great fun. (Pats Peak photo)

Snowbike: It’s the easiest way you’ll ever carve a ski slope. You sit on bike with skis instead of wheels, wear tiny skis on your feet, and tilt your head to one side or the other to turn and stop. Yes, it’s that easy. Pats Peak in Henniker, NH (www.patspeak.com/snowbike.htm) rents the bikes and offers lessons.

Snowscoot: This one is a mystery, but Mont Sutton in Sutton, Quebec (just across the border from Vermont) rents them. It’s apparently similar to a Snowbike but with wider skis (more like snowboards) you can stand on while you hold the handlebars. Gotta try it!

Snowshoe: If you can walk, you can snowshoe. Period. Snowshoes are the ATV’s of the winter world. Deep powder snow can make for tough for off-trail snowshoeing, but perfect snowshoeing on snowmobile trails and cross-country ski trails. When the snow has settled you can go anywhere. Most outdoor shops and cross-country ski areas rent snowshoes. If you’ve never tried it, what are you waiting for?

On a late winter day with blue sky above and plenty of snow. Why would anyone wish for spring? (Tim Jones photo)

XC ski-“Classic”: I just got a letter from a reader who tried cross-country skiing for the first time last Sunday. She’s totally hooked, can’t wait to go again. As she says “Picking up cross-country skiing is incredibly simple!” “Classic” or touring skis let you ski in the prepared tracks of a ski area (go to www.xcski.org for a pretty complete resort finder), or out on the golf course near your house.

XC ski-Skate: Skate skiing needs groomed trails, but it’s faster and even better exercise than “Classic” cross country. Unless you are a really good classic skier, don’t try this without a lesson. But it sure is fun!

If you drive the sled, dogsledding is a great winter sport. (Tim Jones photo)

Dogsled: Not the “tourist” variety where they bundle you in a sled and drag you around for an hour, but one where you help hook up the dogs and drive the sled. Try Mahoosuc Guide Service in Newry, Maine or Song In The Woods near Moosehead Lake in Maine.

Skijor: Dogsledding without the sled. Take one cross-country skier, attach one dog who likes to run. Instant fun. Peacepups and Eden Mountain Lodge in Vermont both give excellent lessons.

Nordic Skate: Skating on natural ice with long skates and cross-country ski boots. Late-winter melts and re-freezes can produce superb ice conditions. Nordic Skater can rent you gear and point you toward safe ice.

Thaws and re-freezes can produce wonderful Nordic skating in late winter. (Tim Jones photo)

That’s 10 ideas you can try this weekend. You could also go ice climbing, winter mountaineering, winter camping (this is absolutely the best time of the winter for that!), kite skiing, backcountry skiing, Telemarking, Randonee racing . . . you get the idea.

You can’t change the weather, so change your attitude, Instead of making yourself miserable yearning for warmer weather, enjoy the snow and cold while we still have it. Think of it this way: Winter is a joy to be savored as long as possible.

Justin Lazar finds his legs on Super Nova at Crotched Mountain Ski and Ride in Bennington, New Hampshire. (Jonathan Gourlay photo)

On a recent Saturday I was crossing over from the top of Meteor, an intermediate slope with a nice sustained pitch straight down the fall line at Crotched Mountain Ski and Ride (Bennington, NH) to Pluto’s Plunge, the resort’s longest black diamond trail, when I noticed a handful of entry points into the woods. It surprised me and I stopped for a moment to take a look. Someone had done a nice job thinning just enough of the small stuff to create what appeared to be a long sustained gladed playground spreading out far enough for two skiers or riders to negotiate side by side.

I dropped in, and followed a line linking a number of consistent but tight turns far enough to need a breather and stopped. I looked around and smiled at my luck. How cool to have found this little hideaway that seemed to stretch all the way to the lower extremity of a stand of trees. I continued down and followed some old tracks out to skiers left. I exited the woods onto Pluto’s Plunge just beneath the summit chair, out of breath and about three-quarters of the way down the slope.

It’s little improvements and pleasant surprises like this that have kept me a loyal season pass holder at Crotched now going on five years. (It also doesn’t hurt that it’s just 20 minutes from my house.) These little details combined with the fact that it is a perfect place for a family to have fun together while improving their skills at moderate prices keeps families of skiers and riders from southern New Hampshire and northern Massachusetts coming back for more.

Crotched is somewhat centrally located within a triangle formed by the cities of Nashua, Concord and Keene, roughly 30 miles from each and just 60 miles from Boston. Purchased and reopened in 2003 by Peak Resorts after a dozen or so years in dormancy, the little big mountain attracts skiers and riders with consistently good snow on its 23 trails and 875 vertical feet that ski like a bigger mountain. It also has a big modern main lodge with a light-filled airy second story with a cafeteria, fireplace, and bar. A shop, day lockers, ticket sales, plenty of cubbies, and wide benches for booting up are on the first floor. Also, a generous rental space (with telemark gear) opens up right onto the snow.

Aside from the modern amenities at the base area, Crotched impresses most with its snowmaking capabilities. This year (though Mother Nature helped significantly), like the previous six seasons, Crotched Mountain snowmakers got the mountain off to a fast and successful start. Typically that means an opening in late November and for the 2010-2011 season, the jump on skiing has been paying off with each successive snowfall. It has also meant that a couple of January rain events and one in early February have essentially had no effect on the conditions.

This was evident the week after I had first discovered the new glades off the Eclipse crossover, when we hit the slopes with my brother-in-law, Chris, and his two young sons. (Chris’ wife, Beth, took to snowshoes, instead, and was rewarded with a rare sighting of a barred owl on her journey up through the woods just beyond the beginner slope Super Nova.)

It's not often you see these guys at the ski area. This barred owl was photographed by a snowshoer just off the Super Nova trail at Crotched Mountain. (Beth Lazar photo)

Expecting a seven-year-old and even a nine-year-old to ski all day is unrealistic, and after a three-hour drive up to our house in Peterborough, NH, from Connecticut the night before, it made more sense for our visitors and us to take it easy getting out of the house in the morning and opt for the half-day ticket that starts at 1 p.m. (Adults: $48; kids 6-12: $39; juniors 13-17: $41). An adult’s full-day ticket is $54. Night skiing from 3 to 9 p.m. is $39 for all ages. It was easy for my crew (two adults and two boys ages 11 and 13) to ski at any time because we have an unlimited family season pass (a little more than $1200).

As is our regular weekend practice, we piled into the car with a bagged lunch and headed to the mountain. The place was busy, with the big parking lot three-quarters full, and inside the roomy lodge the lunchtime crowd was just getting started a little after noon.

After filling our bellies and booting up, we headed to the fixed-grip double at the west end of the mountain and warmed up for a couple runs on Super Nova as Chris took Justin, his youngest, to the Launch Pad learning slope that is serviced by a “wonder carpet” surface lift. When Justin was sufficiently warmed up (two runs), we split up from the top of the double and I dove into the intermediate Comet Drop and across into the thinly gladed Final Frontier as the others took the beginner slope Super Nova down to the base. We met at the double for another ride up and to cross over to more variety at the east end of the area.

The conditions, despite a bit of rain the previous week, were a mix of packed powder on top of a firm, but carvable secondary surface. While we could hear some scratching going on from time to time, the grooming crew had done another phenomenal job the night before, turning a crunchy crust into plenty of easy-turning corduroy. This is another reason Crotched has earned a loyal patron base; the groomers work magic day in and day out. The trees, however, alternated between soft crud and firm crust. Another few inches of snow, and the glades would be perfect.

Half of us took the intermediate Velocity that parallels Comet Drop while the others took another turn down the top part of Super Nova before crossing Final Frontier. We met at the middle of the mountain where the expert slope, Pluto’s Plunge, empties into the wide-open section beneath the summit quad for an easy crossing to the terrain-park quad.

The Super Nova double accesses beginner and intermediate trails at the west end of Crotched Mountain. (Jonathan Gourlay photo)

And this is what the modest mountain does so well. The 75 acres ski much larger than the numbers suggest. We still like what it has to offer (besides the best French fries in the Universe) and we regularly bring visitors from away here for an enjoyable ski experience. The layout makes it easy, say, for me to charge hard down Pluto’s Plunge, or take a detour on the natural-snow-covered and bumped-up UFO, and then meet my family at the base of the summit lift or the east-side quad after they’ve taken easier slopes down.

From the summit, skiers and riders have three options. A left off the chair takes you to the black-diamond Satellite Summit or an immediate plunge down the aforementioned Pluto’s Plunge. Turn right, and you can take the intermediate-rated Moon Walk and loop around to green trails, blues or back down Pluto’s. A final option provides almost 200 more vertical feet of backcountry skiing via a 10-minute climb up a boot-packed trail to the true summit. From up there, you can push off east for a couple of unmarked trails and find knee-deep powder, cut up crud or even thigh-high fluff if you time your visit just right. A small cliff band off to the west even provides a thrilling but brief plunge to a tight glade that empties out onto the intermediate Milky Way.

Less adventurous skiers will continue toward the east after looping off the summit lift and hook up just beyond the top of the terrain park with either NCC-1701 or Galaxy, a pair of beginner trails that offer wide enough space for carving practice. They intersect at the apex of Galaxy’s turn toward the west and offer three choices back down to either the park quad or the summit quad. One of those choices, a blue called Big Dipper, offers aspiring speedsters a bit more pitch on a slope that always seems to hold the snow well.

That slope empties out at the base of the terrain park quad, which probably offers the best seats in the house for entertainment. Crotched Mountain Park begins at the top of the quad and stretches the entire way to the bottom, featuring a variety of rails and hits at the top before progressing to bigger and bigger features that expert boarders and twin-tippers regularly use to show off an impressive variety of flips, jumps and tricks that draw shouts of approval and gasps of surprise from those watching from the lift. Make no mistake, this is a massive terrain park and occupies a serious amount of acreage on this modest mountain.

The park also allows those of us longer in the tooth to relive a little of the past when going airborne meant a loss of your ticket. The in-runs and walls expertly carved and updated weekly by Crotched’s grooming crew provide ample opportunity to get just enough modest air for the occasional middle-aged thrill.

And to make sure the grommets get adequate preparation before launching a barrel roll on the big park, Crotched has built the progressively demanding Zero-G Terrain Park accessed by a triple just outside the east entrance of the lodge. It begins with rails and tables just a few inches off the snow before moving to jumps that demand more experience.

This crew is just one group of loyal locals who call Crotched Mountain Ski & Ride their home hill. (Jonathan Gourlay photo)

So skiers and riders get the training they need, the mountain offers camps in its Freestyle Program for boarders and the entire gamut of lesson plans for the rest of us snowboarders and skiers as well as those interested in learning about telemark. There’s also adult-league night racing, a junior racing team, special clinics and NASTAR every weekend. Then, of course, there’s Midnight Madness, the mountain’s popular Friday and Saturday night celebration with lighted sliding until 3 a.m., live music indoors and a bonfire outside.

And did I mention service is sparkling here? That’s just another reason so many families, couples and singles congregate at this easy day getaway in southern New Hampshire. After a couple of hours exploring its offerings, it’s easy to see why.

The main base-to-summit lift at Saddleback is double, which means longer liftlines on weekends and holidays, but... fewer people on the slopes! (Tim Jones photo)

“Which is better?”

That’s the question I often get when people find out I’m skiing both Saddleback in Rangeley, Maine and Sugarloaf in Carrabassett Valley, Maine in one trip. And, since I get to Maine as often as I can to ski, I hear the question pretty often. But I still don’t quite know how to answer it.

The truth is that Saddleback and Sugarloaf have a lot in common, but the “feel” of the two mountains is very, very different. So which one you like best is going to depend on your personal preferences. I can’t tell you which is better. In fact, I can’t even tell you for certain which one I like better.

Sugarloaf is usually "busier" than Saddleback, and has many more high-speed lifts, but that doesn't mean the trails are always crowded. (Tim Jones photo)

Let’s look first at what these two Maine giants have in common. Since the summits of the two mountains are only about a dozen miles apart in a straight line (but an hour or more apart by car on winter roads) and are of similar height (Saddleback’s summit is 4,116 and Sugarloaf’s is 4,237) they both usually share similar snowfall and weather conditions. Fresh snow at one usually means fresh snow at the other in similar amounts. Neither Sugarloaf nor Saddleback will likely ever make anyone’s “Top Ten” list for snowmaking and grooming. (If you want stellar snowmaking and grooming, go to Sunday River.) Both Sugarloaf and Saddleback are at their best when Mother Nature delivers the goods. And Mother Nature seems to deliver the goods often up here.

Both Saddleback and Sugarloaf are big, burley moutains with lots of terrain for skiers and riders of all levels. This is the view of Saddleback from their lower beginner and condo transport lift. (Tim Jones photo)

Both Saddleback and Sugarloaf have well-deserved reputations as big, burley mountains with a lot to offer very serious skiers and riders. Both have above-treeline skiing on their summits when the natural snow is deep enough. Both have some wicked challenging trails (Muleskinner at Saddleback is steep, tight, scary and wonderful, so are some of the frontside Snowfield lines at Sugarloaf). And both mountains have magnificent glade skiing. Saddleback had a clear lead in this department until this year, but Sugarloaf just opened the new Brackett Basin Glades on Burnt Mountain (part of a 10-year expansion plan). So they’ve achieved near-parity again. You can spend a lot of time in the glades at either mountain before you have to repeat a line.

That’s for serious skiers and riders. For the less adventuresome, both resorts have some lovely intermediate cruisers and good beginner terrain. Saddleback has a slight edge in beginner terrain since they have an entirely separate, gentle, consistent beginner hill below the lodge with very little traffic from more advanced skiers and riders.

Now To The Differences:

Some of the differences between Sugarloaf and Saddleback are big and obvious; others aren’t.

One obvious difference: Sugarloaf is famous; Saddleback isn’t (yet).

Sugarloaf has been around since 1951, had a gondola when most other New England resorts were still using t-bars and rope tows. For awhile, it was part of the high-profile American Skiing Company, now it’s owned by the giant Boyne. Sugarloaf boasts the most vertical of any ski hill in New England, the Carrabassett Valley Academy has produced a number of world-famous skiers and riders.

Saddleback, on the other hand, has quietly eased along mostly under the radar. A lot of folks outside of Maine have never heard of it. And probably not one northeastern skier in 100 has ever made turns there or could easily find it on a map. The new owners, local folks, are intent on changing that, but slowly.

Some of the differences are very subtle. For example, Saddleback faces northwest while Sugarloaf faces almost due north. As a result, both get a lot of wind, but, in my experience, Saddleback seems better set up to handle it. Despite being there on a number of really windy days, only once have a I seen a “wind hold” on any of the major lifts at Saddleback and that didn’t last long. In my experience, wind holds are pretty common at Sugarloaf as a northwest wind can come screaming around the flank of the hill and hit the lifts sidewise. On the second day of my recent visit, Sugarloaf was able to open only two lower-mountain chairs, and a t-bar on the upper mountain. They also were running their “transport lifts” which carry condo denizens to the slopes, but since these don’t service any real ski terrain, they don’t really count . . .

The "SuperQuad" detachable is a very popular lift at Sugarloaf, but the line moves quickly. (Tim Jones photo)

When Sugarloaf is fully open, however, it has many more lifts, much faster lifts (two detachable quads), and much higher uphill capacity than Saddleback. This means shorter lift lines and more runs on busy days, but it also means more people with you on the slopes.

Saddleback has much less lift capacity—the main summit chair is a double—which can mean longer lift lines, but once you make it to the slopes you have more space and the snow is less beat up by traffic. Who wins on this is a matter of personal preference, either you like fast lifts or you don’t. The number of skiers and riders who use the “SuperQuad” at Sugarloaf tells me that lots of people love the high-speed lifts.

As to prices, there’s a world of difference. For 2010/11 Sugarloaf is $77 every day for an adult one day ticket. There are deals to be had on multi-day tickets. For 2010/11, Saddleback is $50 on weekends, $35 midweek and two for $45 on Wednesdays.

You notice another real difference between Saddleback and Sugarloaf as you drive there and arrive at the base area. Even mid-week, Sugarloaf is “busy.” Sugarlaof has a huge and very comfortable hotel right at the base. The slopes around the base area are covered with condos and homes and more are hidden away in the trees. A lot of people can ski-in, ski-out at Sugarloaf, and even more are just a short shuttle ride from the slopes.

There are a dozen or so dining options on the mountain and the access road, and many more down on Route 27 and in Kingfield and Stratton. There are shops and art galleries on the hill and in the town. Sugarloaf is the home mountain for the Carrabassett Valley Academy, one of the great prep schools for student athletes. There’s almost always a race or some sort of serious race training going on somewhere on the mountain. Some days, there are more racers on the mountain than “civilians.”And there’s even some serious nightlife here . . .

Saddleback is definitely quieter than Sugarloaf, but which mountain is better is a matter of personal preference. (Tim Jones photo)

By contrast, Saddleback bustles on the weekends and some school vacations, but is otherwise best described as “quiet.” The access road is empty except for the Nordic center; there are a few comfortable condos tucked away here and there and big plans for more in the future, but most are still empty mid-week. The only restaurant on the mountain is the “Swig and Smelt” on the top floor of the base lodge (where the food has always been excellent). There are a few restaurants and shops down in Rangeley, nothing that I know of for nightlife. For the foreseeable future, you come to Saddleback in winter to ski or ride. Period.

So which mountain is better? I honestly don’t know. I simply wouldn’t think of visiting one without spending equal time at the other. I’ve enjoyed epic days at both on fabulous terrain, with wonderful views and, usually, lots of great natural snow. My advice is simple: ski them both and decide which one YOU like best.

Here’s one thing I’ve noticed, though. Few people you meet skiing Sugarloaf have ever bothered to try Saddleback. Apparently, they see no reason to go anywhere else. But almost everyone you meet at Saddleback has skied both there and Sugarloaf and keeps coming back to Saddleback.

If you have a decided preference for one mountain or the other, or see something I’ve missed that makes one of these hills stand out for you, please use the comment section below to let me know. I’d like to hear your opinion.

No friends on a Powder Day! (Brett Lund photo)

No Friends on a Powder Day!!! I love to be able to use that phrase because even though you don’t mean it (usually) it means that Mother Nature has delivered the goods. What a great start to 2011 we have had in the Northeast! We seem to be in a cycle of weekly dumps, and I took the opportunity to visit one of my favorite resorts in NH, Mount Sunapee, during the latest dump.

Pow-Der!! POW-DER!!!

Sunapee always seems to do well with  snowfall. I had season passes here while in grad school, and was always impressed with the snow quality. When other areas of the state were getting rain or nothing, Sunapee always seemed to be squeezing a few inches of snow out of the air . Wednesday, February 2  brought a huge winter weather system and the snowfall was fabulous!

Days like this are an absolute dream on any type of snow sliding device, but I have been using Telemark skis for close to 2 decades and I live for these days. There is nothing like dropping into a Telemark turn in new powder, gliding slowly through a long arc. Being lower to the ground in a Tele turn seems to increase the sensation of centrifugal forces. It could be due to the lower center of gravity, or it may just be my imagination, but I feel the turn in a way that I never did while alpine skiing. It also has added years to my ski “career”, as the dynamic position needed in Telemark turns has strengthened my legs and protected my knees.

If you would like to try telemark skiing without investing in the gear, both New England Telemark and North Atlantic Telemark host festivals throughout the winter, and are an excellent way to try the sport or improve your Tele technique.

Rippin' Raelyn doing what she loves, but dreaming of fatter skis! Brett Lund photo

We arrived at Sunapee at 9 am after a slow and challenging drive. The parking lot was half full, but the line of traffic to the mountain was steady, with local and non-local snow junkies anticipating a day of joy in a foot of new snow. Here in the Northeast, our snow often comes with a blast of wind, and because of this the summit lifts were on hold, and would continue to be on hold throughout the day. If you were lucky enough to have Thursday off as well, you would have had another incredible day from the summit. Untouched powder in the Sunbowl area of Sunapee is beyond fun. I am jealous of those who were able to partake. If you have never been here, the views from Sunapee’s summit are excellent, especially  toward Lake Sunapee itself.

Regardless of the lift situation, the skiing off the front side of the mountain was incredible. On days like today the snow is so good that it really doesn’t matter if you have access to 50 trails or 5… You will still have a great time. Sunapee has some very fun runs off the front side, that often go unnoticed on days when the summit lifts are running. Trails like Upper and Lower Flying Goose, Chase ledges, and Lynx are excellent advanced/expert trails. If you like moguls, Flying Goose is a great challenge and sports a consistent pitch of quality bumps that will make your quads scream in agony and ecstasy simultaneously! With 10+ inches of new snow, it was stellar today.

Pretty sure there was a big grin under every balaclava at Sunapee this day! (Brett Lund photo)

Sunapee also has one of the best terrain parks in the state.  At least half of the crowd on his day was in the terrain park, making the most of the soft landings. The beginner areas were also open and busy; Sunapee has a completely separate area for the novice skier and rider that makes learning inviting.

After a long day of powder farming our group chose to relax in the pub, and enjoy a drink and pub fare while watching the diehards try to get in there final turns of the day. We relived some of the laughs from the day before loading up for the return home. Here’s hoping that this cycle of snow continues through the winter!

Snow snakes love powder, and lay in wait of unsuspecting skiers! (Brett Lund photo)